Red
by LikeAMafiaBoss
Summary: ' He felt that, as long as his best friend was still around, he could do anything. Saruhiko trusted Yata, and in turn Yata trusted him.' After a great epidemic in Japan subsides, Yata and Fushimi have to survive in a ravaged city where opposing the government litteraly costs you your head and two clans with mysterious abilities fight for power. Post-apocalypse!AU


Someone must have seen them. That was the only logical explanation Yata could think of before Fushimi's long and sweaty fingers wrapped themselves around his wrist to pull him away. Someone had seen them and called the police. Whoever the bastard was, he was probably hoping for a reward of some sort.

"Shit-! Saruhiko, what the hell are you doing? Those cops are _there_, y'know!"

Fushimi clicked his tongue in agitation, not willing to slow down his pace or loosen his grip on his companion's arm. "Are you stupid? There's no way we can take all of them on with the equipment we have."

Yata's gaze lowered to the second-handed rifle strapped onto his back, then towards his own rusty handgun with only two remaining bullets. No, they wouldn't stand a chance, he realized.

"We need to find a way to get through the exit, though." Fushimi continued, releasing the brunette from his iron grip. "If it's barricaded, there's no other choice for us but to jump out of the window and hope we have a safe landing."

"Get back here!" one of the officers behind them yelled, prompting Yata to curse underneath his breath and nearly trip over a stray pipe. "Isn't there a way we can get rid of those motherfucking assholes? This way they'll catch up before we can even reach the other side of the building!" "I know, I know, be patient!" Saruhiko snarled through gritted teeth, letting his brain work at full speed and going through the short list of options. Sacrificing their bullets now would give them a higher chance of survival, but they'd be rendered unable to search for better weapons afterwards. Before he could even contemplate about what to do his friend had already picked up the heavy pipe and knocked out one of the officers with a loud roar. He wanted to yell at him how much of an idiot he was as he watched the man sink onto his knees and blood streaming down his face, only to be tackled to the ground by the brunet.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Saruhiko reprimanded right after Yata had taken courtesy to roll the two of them behind the nearest wooden box. "You almost got both of us killed!"

"Someone had to do something and you weren't going to anyways!" Yata countered.

"Oh, for _fuck's_ sake."

The window was across the room, roughly twenty feet away from their current position. They should be able to make it there if they were quick enough, but there was no guarantee they wouldn't fall to their deaths. Should they –

"Let's go now, Saruhiko," The spectacled teen's head snapped up and he was met with a pair of determined hazel orbs. "I'll distract them so you can jump out first." Yata went on, and Saruhiko simply scoffed.

"Stop trying to be heroic." It sounded less downgrading than he had hoped, but Yata had gotten the message and grinned broadly. God, he might be nineteen – and four months older than him – but he was still a little kid. Misaki's height didn't exactly contribute to his age either.

Fushimi held his rifle against his chest and crawled behind Yata. The officers were still shooting around like mad men, some having put their flash lights on now that it was too dark to see clearly without some kind of light source. When the bullets stopped flying around their ears because their attackers needed to reload their guns, Yata took the opportunity to jump up and grab one of the small rocks lying in the rubble behind him. He threw it into the direction of the nearest officer and it hit him in the head with a lot more impact than the teenager had expected it to have. "You little punk!" was the immediate reaction of one of the fallen officer's buddies. What followed was one heck of a chase. Yata took a sprint to the right, jumping over boxes and poles without losing speed despite the plethora of grenades and bullets aimed at him. Seriously, if they continued like this the whole place would be wracked in minutes. Fushimi, in the meantime, had opened the window and climbed outside onto the sill. Only now he realized how high they actually were.

Was it all worth the jump? Did he even want to consider putting his life at risk in hopes of surviving? Saruhiko turned his head back and flinched at the bullets being fired downstairs, quickly facing the wall in front of him again. It was too far away for him to reach, and following Yata would lead to a certain death. In a way, all these factors gave him more courage. He felt that, as long as his best friend was still around, he could do anything. Saruhiko trusted Yata, and in turn Yata trusted him. Sucking in a breath, the ravenette leapt forward, expecting to hit the ground. But he didn't. Instead he fell onto something soft and warm. Said 'thing' didn't appear to be all that happy about the landing, however.

"Goddamn, you're pretty heavy for someone who has never eaten a vegetable in his entire life!" Yata grumbled, shaking Fushimi off but helping him up anyways. His cheek had been grazed by a bullet and there was blood dripping from the wound. But he was still breathing, he was fine and didn't have any serious injuries.

"That was really stupid, what you did there." Saruhiko stated. "You could've died."  
>"Well, you agreed with it, didn't you?" Yata retorted, unamused by his friend's comment. "That's not how you talk to your savior!"<br>"Whatever. Where did you leave those officers?"  
>"I shook them off and hid in a box for a minute. Then they went looking at another floor."<br>"You're lucky for being so tiny, then-"  
>"Shut up and don't look at me with those pitiful eyes! We were supposed to find a place to sleep at, didn't we?" The brunette turned from the younger male and walked away with a brisk pace. Saruhiko sighed but resigned himself to following. He was right, after all. Those dumb guards could catch up at any moment and they couldn't let that happen again before they found better weapons.<p>

_"Don't come any closer!"_

_Yata's mother held up a shaky hand, hazel eyes wide in fear. Her skin was pale, almost green even, and her pretty brown hair was now sticking to her sweaty forehead. She was holding Megumi in her arms, who looked even worse than she did. The small girl was breathing in small, uneven huffs, sometimes heaving and coughing up blood. His step father was nowhere in sight, nor was his younger brother Minoru._  
><em>"I'm begging you, Misaki, don't come closer or else you'll catch it too!" his mother pleaded, rocking Megumi back and forth as a last resort to sooth both her daughter and herself.<em>  
><em>Yata felt as if all the air was being sucked out of his lungs, put back and then removed once again. Soon enough his family would turn into nothing but brainless humanoids craving flesh and blood. And here he thought it wouldn't happen to them. He thought he could protect them all but he was the sole survivor.<em>  
><em>Tears fell before he was able to stop them and they were still streaming down his cheeks as he left behind what had once been his safe haven. The streets were deserted and the atmosphere was eerie, but he kept running without thinking of where he went.<em>

_When night fell Yata ended up at an apartment complex and he sprawled his jacket out on the cold, hard floor. Sleeping was no use because the frightened voice of his mother was still fresh on his mind and the image of Megumi throwing up blood didn't want to leave him either, but he was tired, exhausted even. Yata repeatedly pinched himself, all the while denying that his family was done for. It didn't work. Just as he was about give up and punch himself to sleep he heard something shuffle around the corner. On impulse he jumped up and went to look. He was scared, yes, but not a coward. His legs were strong, he could run off if it was zombie._

_While his skin tone was about as white as snow, the boy Yata found wasn't undead in the slightest. His legs were pulled up to his chest with his arms wrapped around them, and he returned Yata's surprised gaze with a hard, apathetic look. Were those eyes made of steel or what? Yata quickly regained his composure._

_"Are you cold?" he asked. The strange boy shot him a glance like a dagger and didn't say anything. Yata huffed, not one to be put off that easily. "You're freezing over there, in case you didn't notice. If you want, you can borrow my jacket-"_

_"Does it look like I want your sympathy?" the teen growled in response, seemingly agitated by Misaki's offer. "I'm fine here all on my own. I don't need anything or anyone. What's an elementary school kid like you doing here on his own anyway…"_

_"I'm not an elementary school kid!" Yata barked. "I'm fifteen! Then how old are you?"_

_"That's none of your business." The moment he says it, thunder cracks in the background and creates a theatrical atmosphere. The sound of rain pouring on the roof and pavement could be heard seconds later._

_Misaki gives up. "Whatever. If you ever decide to get your ass up and introduce yourself properly, then be my guest."_

_"What's the point of knowing each other's names when we're going to die anyway?" the bespectacled male argued, and Yata could swear he saw his blue eyes darken a split second. "It's no use. We'll both get infected and turn into rotting, brainless monsters."_

_"Believe all you want, but I'm not dying that easily." Yata disclosed, returning to the hallway around the corner where his jacket still was. He lay down on it and squeezed his eyes shut in another fruitless attempt to make the horrifying visions disappear._

_"… hiko."_

_He opened them again and rolled onto his side, glancing into the direction of where the stranger was hidden. "What?"_

_"Fushimi Saruhiko. Yours?"_

_It took Yata less than a second to break out into a wide grin._

_"Yata."_

_"You don't have a first name?"_

_Yata's grin disappeared like snow before the sun and an inevitable blush rose to his cheeks._

_"That's, uh- That's not of any importance!"_

_It was silent around the corner. Yata couldn't tell if Fushimi had fallen asleep, was deadpanning at the answer or laughed in silence._

_"… Misaki. But don't ever mention it or I'll bash your skull in!"_  
><em>"You're short, dumb and you have a girly name. That's got to be the weirdest combo I've seen in years."<em>

_God-fucking-dammit, they were getting along just dandy weren't they._

_"I know I have a girly name but mentioning all those things in the same sentence is a bit harsh!"_

_"I never said it wasn't." Fushimi had finally crawled out of his hiding spot and was facing Yata with an expressionless gaze. For some reason it pleased the brunette to know he felt comfortable enough to share a room with him. If you could call this place a room anyway. He was weird and rude yet he couldn't deny feeling that he could be trusted._

_As long as he'd stop making fun of his height and stupid-ass first name._

_"After this storm is over I'm going outside again." Yata decided to break the silence, gazing through the window. He needed to try and find his brother and step-father, see if they were alive. "What about you?"_  
><em>Saruhiko shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe I'll stay here a little longer."<em>

_So he didn't have any family left, huh? Yata contemplated about it for a while before deciding, why the fuck not?_

_"You should come with me." he proposed. "You won't survive in here all on your own."_

_Saruhiko stared at him in quiet disbelief. "You're so odd."_  
><em>"Hey! I'm trying to help you here!"<em>

_"I never said it was a bad thing." Saruhiko retorted, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing the other way. Yata figured that was his way of saying 'thanks for inviting me, I'll accompany you'._

_"So that means you agree with it?"_

_Fushimi sighed. "Fine. But if you get us into trouble, I'll leave you behind."_

Looking back, the amount of times Yata had thrown both of them into a figurative pit of snakes was tremendous.

Saruhiko still hadn't left him.


End file.
